


Your Delicate Seams

by kashmir, unamaga



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Age Regression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-12
Updated: 2008-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unamaga/pseuds/unamaga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, woah," John says, alarmed. "I'm not into kids."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Delicate Seams

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently Julie and I like to make Rodney McKay come (and come and come), so we figured maybe at nineteen it'd be a little more plausible. It's not our fault, we were brainwashed. Or something. Title shout-out to [](http://amberlynne.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://amberlynne.livejournal.com/)**amberlynne**. ♥

**TO:** jsheppard@atlan.gov  
**FROM:** mrmckay@atlan.gov  
**SENT:** Tue 3/11/08 4:57 PM  
**SUBJECT:** _(no subject)_

So. FUNNY STORY.

-

Standing in the infirmary with all the conclusive test results displayed on various monitors doesn't convince him. Watching Rodney tug at the hem of his too-large shirt and pout doesn't convince him. Listening to Rodney and Radek yell over each other about idiots touching unknown devices without permission doesn't even convince him. Strangely, John doesn't actually believe Rodney's suddenly twenty years younger until Rodney crowds him into a corner on the way back to their quarters and presses up against him like he can't get enough.

John takes a moment to convince himself that the high pitched noise he just heard didn't _really_ come out of his mouth, and then he says, "What are you doing?"

"Mowing the lawn," Rodney snaps, "what does it look like I'm doing?"

Some things never change, John thinks gratefully. "Molesting me in a public thoroughfare?"

Rodney sighs long-sufferingly and wraps the front of John's shirt around his fist to pull him closer. "I am so horny right now you can't even imagine," he says gravely. "I probably have a hair trigger. It's your duty to –"

"Hey, woah," John says, alarmed. "I'm not into kids."

"I'm not really nineteen!"

"You look nineteen," John reminds.

Rodney glares. "But I'm not. And I want you to fuck me." Off John's look, he adds defensively, "You've never had a problem with my ass before."

"It's – you're all…" John trails off, glancing down between them at Rodney's slim frame.

"Please?" Rodney murmurs.

-

Ten minutes later, Rodney's standing in front of him, _stripping_. John closes his eyes, exhaling a shaky breath and wondering how exactly he's going to manage. This is...weird. And wrong. And, god, he is _such a pervert_ because he's getting off on it anyway.

"The point of this _was_ you watching me, wasn't it?"

Grudgingly, John glances over at Rodney, and has to remind himself abruptly that he's nearly forty and he doesn't go off in his pants for no reason. Rodney's all smooth skin and light hair, the familiar slant of his mouth fuller, and every piece of over-sized clothing he loses has John's fingers inching closer to the edge of his own knee like they want to reach out and touch the surprisingly vulnerable dip of muscle just above Rodney's sharp hipbones. His chest feels tight.

"You can touch, you know." Rodney's voice is higher now too, and while the inflection is right, there's a certain softness there that makes John feel even dirtier. "I want you to touch."

John swallows audibly and meets Rodney's piercing blue gaze.

"Jesus Christ, Rodney. You're..." he trails off as Rodney takes a step closer, losing the loose scrub pants Keller had given him in the infirmary. John bites his lip hard when he realizes Rodney isn't wearing anything underneath his pants, his cock rising flushed and heavy towards his much, much slimmer stomach.

Rodney takes one of John's hands and puts it on his chest, right above his heart as he straddles John's lap. John moans as Rodney's cock brushes against his shirt, leaving a damp trail.

"Still me, John. It's still _me_."

_Okay_, John thinks, _okay, yeah_, and he reaches up to grip Rodney's shoulders and pull him closer, tilting his head at the last minute for an achingly slow, delicate kiss that tastes just the same as always. Rodney makes a soft noise and shifts, getting a hand between them and curving it around the side of John's neck. His thumb is on John's jaw, just the barest hint of pressure that has John gasping raggedly and opening his mouth wider for Rodney's tongue.

Abruptly, the kiss changes: it's messy and wet and Rodney's sucking hard on his bottom lip, nipping at the corner of his mouth until he moans. It feels like going into a tailspin, half fear and half pure, joyful adrenaline rush, and John's pretty sure that in this situation he should be the one in control, but Rodney's hand is still big, capable, and he can't bring himself to do anything but lean into the strength of it, let go.

Rodney pulls away after awhile, panting, mouth puffy and red, shiny. John moans and tries to follow him, not wanting to lose the taste of Rodney in his mouth, on his tongue. Rodney whimpers and presses his forehead to John's as he pants.

"Jesus Christ, John. Fucking _touch me_ before I come just from kissing you."

John lets out a strangled groan and presses forward, covering Rodney's lips with his own again, catching Rodney's wrists with both of his hands and pushing them behind Rodney's back.

"Just like this," he breathes, "I want you to come like this. God, can you?"

Rodney whines into John's mouth and nods, frantically as he tries to devour John's mouth with his own.

"Yeah, god, yes. Wanna – oh, fuck..."

John inhales sharply and starts kissing Rodney again, breaking his mouth open under John's, hot, wet, and messy.

A minute later, he pulls away, breathing hard, and mutters, "Wait, wait, we should - _wait_, Rodney," ignoring Rodney's, "Hey!" in favor of pushing him down onto his back on the bed. John stretches out along Rodney's side, hooking a leg over one of Rodney's thighs and nudging his knees apart. "Like this."

"Make up your goddamn mind," Rodney grumbles, but he's flushed and his eyes are glassy, and John knows Rodney well enough to know he's balanced right on the edge. Usually, John might take advantage of that to tease, fleeting touches across Rodney's hips, over his peaked nipples - but now John thinks that might actually be enough, that Rodney would _come_.

He cups Rodney's head, fingers tangling in the longer, _blonder_ hair there and starts to kiss Rodney again; short, hard little nips to his lips, dipping his tongue inside to taste the whimpers Rodney can't quite contain.

Rodney's shivering beneath him, skin sheened with sweat, and John's own cock throbs in his pants, reminding him of how it's being neglected, that he's still completely dressed. He ignores it, focuses instead on Rodney, on how close he is to just coming and how hot this is, how fucking gorgeous and god, all _John's_.

It spurs John on, that thought, has him bracing himself over Rodney with one arm - carefully making sure none of him touches Rodney anywhere - and kissing him harder, deeper; there's no way for Rodney to mistake the intent behind it, the _claim_ John's making with each scrape of his teeth.

_Mine_.

Rodney makes a sharp, high noise, shuddering hard under John's mouth, and John reaches down just in time to feel Rodney spill hot and slippery over his own flat stomach.

Rodney rolls closer and buries his face in John's neck, panting hot and fast against the skin there. John runs shaking fingers down Rodney's back to his ass, teasing the cleft there a little before skating his fingertips down to the back of Rodney's thinner, yet still muscular, thighs.

Rodney whimpers and presses himself closer to John, his come making the front of John's shirt and pants damp. John nuzzles at Rodney's jaw line, presses soft, delicate kisses to the unblemished skin there.

"What do you want, Rodney?"

Rodney shakes his head, the tip of his nose rubbing back and forth just behind John's ear in a way that makes him shiver despite himself. When no answer comes, however, John spreads his hand out over the small of Rodney's back and pulls him closer, thumbing the swell of Rodney's hip.

"You okay?" he murmurs, kissing Rodney's hair.

"Yeah," Rodney says, sounding shaken and dazed. "I - I just forgot. How intense it is like this."

John smiles and tugs at Rodney's leg until it's splayed over John's, tangling their limbs together.

"Yeah," he murmurs, running teasing fingers up and down through the downy hair on Rodney's thighs. "Bet it feels amazing, huh?"

Rodney nods and John can feel his cock perking up between them again. He had somehow forgotten that oh-so-quick recovery time that came with being nineteen. He rolls his hips a little, growling low in his throat when his dick rubs against Rodney through two layers of cloth. Rodney makes a noise too and then starts pulling at John's fly.

"Naked, naked, gotta get you naked, now."

No arguing with that.

John scrambles to get the buttons of his shirt undone, tugging it hastily over his head when that doesn't go fast enough. He doesn't even bother tugging off his wristband or undoing his watch, immediately batting Rodney's clumsy-sated fingers away from his fly and kicking his boots off the end of the bed.

"Oh god," Rodney whines, and leans past John's fumbling arms to kiss his chest, bite a line from one nipple to the other.

John sucks in a hissing breath at that, his head falling back as he tangles his fingers in Rodney's hair, letting him kiss and lick and suck all over John's chest.

"God, John," Rodney murmurs, hands splayed wide over John's belly, tangling in the bit of hair there. "So good."

John bites his lip, silently agreeing but unable to say anything. He manages to get his pants off while Rodney's still worshipping his chest and then they're pressed together from knees to neck and, _holy fuck_, John thinks.

They roll, naturally, until John's on his back and Rodney's looming over him, eyes bright and hungry. For a moment, John misses the solidity of his Rodney, the breadth of his shoulders and the familiar softness around his waist, and then Rodney's leaning down to kiss his kiss-swollen lips and John's thoughts slip away like water through his fingers.

He tears reluctantly away when his mouth starts to ache, loops his arms around Rodney's neck. "You wanna ride me?"

Rodney shudders, almost violently, and rears back, wrapping a clumsy hand around the base of his cock and squeezing, hard.

"Nnggh," he mutters, opening glittering eyes to stare at John. "Wanna... god yes. Wanna ride you."

John smiles, wicked and predatory, and rocks his hips, cock rubbing against the skin of Rodney's ass. Rodney whines again and John chuckles, hands holding tightly to Rodney's hips.

He leans up, ignoring the burn in his stomach muscles, and nibbles Rodney's sweaty collar bone. "Get me the cock ring."

"Ohmygod," Rodney gets out in a rush, but goes without a fight when John pushes him kindly off and towards the nightstand. He comes back with the black ring in his hand, and his cock is so wet at the tip John has to lean in and give it a kiss, tonguing the slit for a minute just to hear Rodney keen.

"Put it on me," John says.

He leans back on the pillows, letting Rodney catch his breath, and stretches the way he knows Rodney likes. Predictably, those blue eyes slide down John's body. "You, uh. You want - this is for you?"

John nods and licks his lips, notices the way Rodney's eyes track the movement.

"Sadly, only one of us has the recovery time of a nineteen year old."

He bites his lip, eyes slamming shut as Rodney gets the ring on him, hands deft and gentle. John pants for a second or two to get himself under control and then opens up heavy eyes to look at Rodney.

He reaches out, tugs until Rodney is once again straddling him, eyes wide, chest flushed pink. John rubs a gentle hand down over Rodney's stomach to his flushed cock.

"Wanna make you come over and over."

Rodney lets out a shaky laugh that trails off into a hoarse moan when John wraps his fingers around Rodney's cock and gives it a few firm tugs, grinning. "Probably - _oh_ \- probably won't be that hard."

"I'd say it's plenty hard," John says with a wicked twist of his wrist. While Rodney's still recovering, he rubs his thumb over the bundle of nerves just under the crown and continues, "How about I lube you up with your own come?"

Rodney shudders hard, fingers digging into the skin of John's shoulders as he moans John's name, hips arching, and comes all over John's belly and hand.

John coaxes him through it, all gentle hands and soothing words, until Rodney's practically collapsed on John's chest, body shivering with aftershocks, heart racing.

"So good, Rodney," John whispers, kissing Rodney's sweaty temple, the shining curve of his cheek. He waits until Rodney's settled and stopped shaking before he slides his cupped hand out from between their bodies, coating a few fingers in Rodney's come. "Lift up," he murmurs, coaxing Rodney onto his knees again, "come on."

Rodney's still a little unsteady, but with a little bit of overly-friendly manhandling, John gets him to spread his knees and brace his face and shoulders on the bed.

Rodney whimpers when John starts to slowly circle his hole, teasing the rim before slowly dipping inside. His entire body is shivering and John has to bite his own lip at the fucking gorgeous picture Rodney makes, all sex-flushed and young and smooth and _his_.

He slowly slides the first finger out before thrusting back in with two, loving the way Rodney moans at that, his cock twitching.

"That's it." John works a third in almost immediately and crooks them all at once, finding the bump of Rodney's prostate with the ease of practice. Rodney's entire body jerks, and he makes a sound John wasn't even aware human vocal chords could produce. "How many times can you come, Rodney?"

"I - I..._John_..."

"How many?" John demands, twisting.

Rodney whines, "Oh god," and pushes down on John's fingers. "I don't - I don't know. Please, I -"

"Shhh." John strokes his free hand down Rodney's tense back. "Just a few more, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Rodney nods, eyes unfocused and hazy when they open, and John smiles as he crooks his fingers again, watching the way Rodney's body responds. He's always thought Rodney was gorgeous – _would_ always think so – but this, this younger version of Rodney is sin incarnate and John can't believe how lucky he is that Rodney trusts him like this.

"Again. Wanna see you come again," he murmurs, watching as Rodney's cock twitches, a drop of pre-come slicking the head.

Dazed is a good look for Rodney, John decides as he cups his hand over Rodney's cock again to catch everything. Dazed and shaking so hard his muscles are quivering around John's fingers; John can't even imagine how good it's going to feel to have that around him, tight and hot and, oh god -

Firmly, he pushes that thought to the side, focusing on the sweaty, salty smell of Rodney's skin, the damp taste of his neck. It doesn't help for long, not when he can _feel_ Rodney straining towards another orgasm.

"I want you so blissed out you walk around tomorrow with no idea where you are," John growls into Rodney's ear. "I want you to think about my cock in you all day, so well fucked you can't even sit down without imagining me coming up behind you and taking you right there all over again."

Rodney keens, high and tight in his throat as he comes again, tensing around John's fingers where they're buried deep inside his body. John strokes him through it, murmuring, "Yeah, that's it. Give it to me. Come on, give it all up for me."

When it's through, Rodney's as weak as a kitten, legs so wobbly they barely hold him up - and as much as John appreciates it (a fucking lot), the thought of Rodney having the strength to ride him like that is almost laughable. John's just about to coax Rodney onto his back, when a sudden flash of inspiration hits him: Rodney's thin now, still tall, but with a gangly quality to his limbs that means he doesn't weigh all that much. And John's not exactly the biggest man in the world, but he's got upper body strength and, right now, enough adrenaline in him to lift a car.

"C'mere," he murmurs, and shifts Rodney around until they're kneeling on the bed facing each other. Rodney's leaning on him heavily, still out of breath, so John takes the moment to spread Rodney's come over his cock. God, just the barest brush of his fingers is almost enough.

He gathers Rodney close, hooking both his arms under Rodney's knees. "Hold onto me." Rodney does, and they're chest to chest, Rodney's legs hooked practically over his shoulders.

John has to grit his teeth as he slides inside of Rodney, the tight, hot, slickness nearly driving him to the brink within seconds. Rodney is panting still, face buried in John's neck, hands gripping tight to John's body.

John bottoms out slowly and it feels fucking incredible and god, he thinks, pulling out slowly, his body entirely supporting Rodney's, he hopes he can wring at least one more orgasm out of Rodney before John himself loses it.

He _needs_ to feel Rodney lose it around his cock.

Rodney's all but comatose, breathing heavily into John's ear, but, god - _god_ \- his cock is already twitching sluggishly between them. John takes a moment to thank whatever higher power is out there for cock rings.

"You okay?" he mumbles.

Rodney nods wordlessly and leans back in his arms so they can see each other. He looks feverish and beautiful, his pupils swallowing up the blue in his eyes, hectic flush high on his cheeks that makes him seem infinitely breakable. John takes a deep breath and fights desperately for his control.

"Gon' fuck me to death," Rodney slurs eventually, syrupy and slow. "'ll die of dehydrat - _oh_." He breaks off, head lolling back on his shoulders, and John only realizes how much trouble he's in when those slim hips roll forward and back, taking him deeper.

John grunts as Rodney starts to fuck himself on John's cock, every thrust of Rodney's hips a slow, slick drag that was driving John out of his mind. Rodney has his head thrown back, throat exposed as he moves and John can't help but lean forward enough to get his teeth around the tendon there and suck, hard.

Rodney whimpers and starts to thrust down harder, making a tiny noise in his throat that drives John insane. He knows by the way Rodney is moving, moaning, that he's close again, so John gets a hand between them awkwardly, running his thumb up the underside of Rodney's cock, tracing circles over the head.

He can't manage the position for long even though he wants to, his shoulders and back aching with the strain; he lets go reluctantly, jostles Rodney into a shocked sounding moan trying to get his leverage back, and starts thrusting up to meet Rodney's hips again.

"Touch yourself," he orders huskily, "I can't, Rodney, you gotta do it. Get yourself off for me."

Rodney looks completely gone but he still somehow manages to get a hand on his own cock, stripping it with short, hard jerks as he moans in counter-point to each of John's deep thrusts.

John can feel his orgasm starting to build and, Jesus, he needs to make Rodney come, needs to get that cock ring off.

Desperately, he seizes upon the first thing that comes to mind - which, granted, usually gets him in a lot of trouble. "If - if you figure out how that goddamn thing works that turned you," he pants, "if you figure it out and it's...it's safe. I'll let you do it to me."

Rodney's eyes shoot open and fix on him.

John swallows and hopes he's on the right track, because he can barely even remember his own name at this point. "I'll - I'll show you how flexible I was."

Rodney's eyes slam shut as his head goes back, John's name leaving his mouth with a deep moan. He jacks his cock once, twice, three more times and then his entire body jerks, hard, and he clenches down around John as he starts to come between them.

John lets out a grateful groan and all but tosses Rodney down on the bed, following after once he's somehow managed to unlatch the cock ring with clumsy fingers. Rodney wraps his arms and legs around John's body as soon as they're close enough and buries his hot face in John's neck.

"It's - s'ok, can keep fuckin' me," he mumbles.

That's all the permission John needs, sliding back in with one smooth push and taking up a steady, hard rhythm.

Rodney cups the back of John's head with one hand, the other tracing up and down his back. He's pressing kisses to John's jaw and ear and John is distantly aware that he is making noise with every thrust into Rodney's still pliant body; he can feel his orgasm starting to spark along his nerve endings.

Rodney arches his hips into John's next thrust and whispers in his ear in a low, fucked-out voice to, "Fuckin' come inside me, John. Fill m'up."

John grips Rodney's sides so hard his own fingers hurt and dimly hears his own voice rising, louder and louder until it breaks. When he comes back to himself, Rodney's cradling him close and they're both on their sides, huddled together under the sheets.

"Wow," he says inanely. His throat hurts but he can't bring himself to care.

Rodney smiles at that, one hand carding through John's sweaty hair. It's familiar and comforting, even if the face isn't the exact same one he's been seeing that smile on for over four years now. He shifts closer and presses a soft, clinging kiss to Rodney's swollen lips.

As he pulls back, John whispers, "That? Was fan-fucking-tastic."

Grinning now, Rodney throws his arms over his head and stretches until his joints pop. "Mmmmm. Kinda was, wasn't it." He rolls towards John, settling on top of him happily like a human blanket and wiggling until John gets a clue and wraps his arms around Rodney's waist. "We're never gonna be satisfied by regular sex again, are we?"

"I dunno 'bout you," John murmurs, kissing Rodney's shoulder, "but I couldn't do _that_ every night."

Rodney chuckles as he burrows his face into John's neck.

"Probably not. Maybe if I really _was_ nineteen..." he trails off then, before pulling back to look at John's face. His cheeks are still flushed, lips red, and his blonde hair is sticking out every which way. He suddenly looks serious, one hand stroking idly up and down John's side.

"Did... did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" John asks absently, leaning into Rodney's touch; he feels skin-hungry in a way he hasn't for months, soaking up the contact like a cat being petted.

Rodney huffs at him. "What...what you said. About the device. Would you really let me?"

John smiles. That huff's one hundred percent Rodney – no matter what the age, apparently. He runs a gentle hand up Rodney's spine, just to watch him shiver, his eyes go slightly hazy.

"Yeah. I would. Only fair, right?" He tugs Rodney closer and nips at his bottom lip before leaning in and whispering. "Just think of how many times you could make me come, Rodney."

"Oh that is just - patently _un_fair," Rodney breathes, but doesn't protest when John smirks and tugs him down for a slow, honeyed kiss. He just settles in and sips at John's mouth like he plans to stay there for a while, dipping his tongue in for a taste and sliding back out again in a blatant invitation for John to do to the same.

It goes on for so long John's dizzy with it, but eventually they pull apart for air, and Rodney noses at John's cheek.

"We should clean up."

John sighs and nods. Palms Rodney's ass, and then, just to hear him squeak, smacks it with his open palm. John chuckles and rolls so Rodney's on the bottom and presses a wet, sloppy kiss to Rodney's mouth.

"Race ya to the shower."

"You must have been the most unmanageable teenager _ever_," Rodney gripes.

John doesn't contradict him because, well, that's actually pretty true, and they make their sedate, unsteady way to the bathroom together, pausing occasionally to trade affectionate touches or slow kisses.

 

Just in case you were wondering, [here's](http://pics.livejournal.com/unamaga/pic/002ffrg7) [how](http://pics.livejournal.com/unamaga/pic/002fg0ty) Rodney looked in our heads. Mmm.


End file.
